


Between Friends

by misura



Category: Wimbledon (2004)
Genre: M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2011-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:25:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/pseuds/misura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>They're neither of them gay or homosexual or whatever the politically correct term is these days. (Peter isn't attracted to other blokes as a rule, but he feels it's important to stay polite.) They're just two guys who simultaneously decide that they want to have sex with each other.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Between Friends

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Aramley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramley/gifts).



It only happens once - not before a game, of course; that would be unlucky, a variation on the routine that hasn't helped either of them actually _win_ for a long, long time now (but they don't talk about that either before or after; nothing brings worse luck than to admit the possibility that you may not have any left, if ever you had it).

Peter tells himself it's natural, logical, reasonable. They're naked around each other a lot, which is no excuse, but they're also _comfortable_ around each other, and that is. They don't, either of them, need to prove anything to the other; they've been there, done that, still laugh about it over beer sometimes. That's a kind of excuse, too.

They're neither of them gay or homosexual or whatever the politically correct term is these days. (Peter isn't attracted to other blokes as a rule, but he feels it's important to stay polite.) They're just two guys who simultaneously decide that they want to have sex with each other.

 _'Luck'_ , Peter thinks as Dieter shoves him against the too-cold, too-hard (but at least quite clean) wall.

They've both got hotel rooms, and no press watching their every move, or even a few of them. They could do this in a bed, except that then, Peter knows, it would be different. It would be _planned_. Awkward.

Quite likely, it would ruin their friendship. Not worth it at all, really; they've been friends for years and years, while this, this is only a moment. A good moment, yes, but still only a moment.

 _'This is my luck,'_ Peter thinks. _'To have really quite good sex. Once.'_

He'll have bruises tomorrow. Dieter knows where to touch him to make him feel good (and Peter knows where to touch Dieter; the advantages of being sportsmen together - knowing each other bodies nearly as well as their own), and he's being careful, but not too careful.

"You need to stop thinking," Dieter says, sounding slightly out of breath. "Peter."

Peter thinks that if he stops thinking, he'll forget it's Dieter. He'll miss one of Dieter's tells - that particular small groan that means something feels good, that slight twitch of his pinkie when something doesn't. It's not in the game plan to stop thinking.

He doesn't tell Dieter this. He probably should, but he's not quite sure of his voice right now.

And then Dieter moves _just so_ , and Peter's coming and he's thinking: _'fuck, I'm coming, fuck, is anyone going to hear me if I scream? fuck, can I not scream? fuck, can I stop saying 'fuck' now? it's really not a word I should be using, not even in my own head and oh - '_ and just like that, he's out. Down. Game, set, match, not Colt. A little embarrassing, frankly.

(With a woman, he'd have ordered flowers and possibly breakfast - with Dieter, he settles for putting up with a full hour of discussing German food and German drinks and a tiny bit of German girls, because they're partners and best friends and not two men in love with each other.)


End file.
